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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672617">Bartender's Broom Closet</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RookieSand/pseuds/RookieSand'>RookieSand</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Magic, Meet-Cute, Modern Era, use of alcohol</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 05:27:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,577</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28672617</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RookieSand/pseuds/RookieSand</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a rough day, Claire finds herself in a very odd bar with a very pretty bartender.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Original Female Character/Original Female Character</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bartender's Broom Closet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Heyo!<br/>Trying my hand at writing some original work. Obviously, this work has more to it than what I've written here but whether or not it actually gets more is kind of up in the air because I don't have that much time to write ;~; <br/>This chapter is pretty self-contained though so I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Claire was intoxicated. That wasn't particularly strange for her. Perhaps how drunk she was was a little odd, but she was a lightweight even on the best of days; she wasn't very big and she didn't drink very often. If she went drinking, it didn't take much to get her tipsy and it was almost guaranteed she'd end up drunk.</p>
<p>Normally, she went out with friends but found herself solo bar hopping after having a long, berating day of dealing with rude and unruly customers followed by a very intense talk with her parents. Not exactly her ideal day.</p>
<p>By this point in her evening, she couldn't even remember what it was her parents were mad at her about. That was perfect. She didn't want to remember. She could barely remember her name, but it wasn't like she needed to know it. A flash of her ID got her a drink. That was all she needed.</p>
<p>She stumbled past an alleyway, trying to get her bearings. She was fairly certain she was close to her home but couldn't exactly remember which direction to go. She knew she should've convinced someone to go out with her. Then she would've been home in her bed right now. Of course, that would require her to have friends who weren't total flakes. Well, okay, that was harsh. They were just busy, but it didn't hurt any less that they had stood her up after the day she'd been having. Not that it mattered now.</p>
<p>She lifted her head as the sound of a rowdy bar reached her from far down the alley. It was completely dark at the end—not somewhere she would've walked by herself at night if she were in her right mind—and she couldn't see any place where the sounds were coming from. Yet, the clinking of glasses and thunderous laughter beckoned to her like a siren song. Her feet moved as if they weren't her own, drawing her deeper and deeper into the darkness.</p>
<p>At the end of the alley, covered completely in shadows, was an old door. There was no doubt that that was where the sounds were coming from. The door was rather peculiar. It was made of dark, heavy wood with metal braces across it like one would see in some sort of medieval castle. Definitely an odd choice of decor for a bar, but Claire continued anyway. A bar was a bar as far as she was concerned.</p>
<p>As she entered, a warm feeling flooded her body. It started at her nose and went all the way down to her stomach, giving her a brief feeling of nausea. She let out a loud belch as she stumbled into the opposite wall of the hallway she'd entered. It took her a moment to collect herself, her breathing hot and sharp. Maybe another drink wouldn't be the greatest idea. At the very least, she hoped someone in the bar would be able to get her a way home.</p>
<p>She continued down the hallway towards the sounds of the bar. She passed the bathrooms, took a right, and was met with another door. There was a glass pane set in most of the top half of it, allowing Claire a decent look into the bar without entering. She peeked in.</p>
<p>The bar looked just as normal as any other bar she'd been to. There were people playing pool and darts, there was a couple of occupied tables, and, of course, a long bar on the other side of the room. The place smelled like smoke but not necessarily like cigarettes or cigars like she was used to. Something had been burning, but Claire couldn't place her finger on <em>what</em> was burned. Had she not been trashed she would've noticed something a little odd about the other patrons. However, her blurry eyes prevented her from noticing anything particularly off about them. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the chalkboard sign just inside the door.</p>
<p>'If you cause and/or participate in a fight, you will be BANNED,' it said. The word 'banned' had been written in red chalk. Perhaps the owner had had some issues with bar fights. Still, it didn't particularly concern her. She entered the bar.</p>
<p>Without the barrier of the door, the loudness of the bar was fully able to wash over her. She nearly had to cover her ears and it was a bit disorienting to her already muddled mind. She made her way to the bar and hauled herself into a stool.</p>
<p>The bartender looked over at her. She was a girl, about Claire's age if Claire had to take a guess, with dark hair that faded to a soft pink at the ends. She was dressed in all black and looked surprised to see Claire sitting at the counter. </p>
<p>"How did you get here?" the bartender asked. Her voice was soft but stern. Claire liked it.</p>
<p>Claire took a moment to process that question. It was certainly not what she thought was going to be asked of her. "C-Can I get a vodka cranberry?" If she was going to have to answer such hard questions, she wanted a drink in her hand.</p>
<p>"No," said the bartender. "I can tell you're done for the evening. You're going to be sick if you drink any more."</p>
<p>"Hey, Poppy," said the large man beside Claire. He clapped his hand on Claire's back and it knocked the wind out of her. "Let the little thing have a drink on me. These humans love to push their limits. I'd like to see how much she can down!"</p>
<p>The bartender gave the man a stern look and crossed her arms. "I absolutely will not. Unless you're planning on cleaning up any mess she makes."</p>
<p>"Can't say I want to do that."</p>
<p>"Thought so."</p>
<p>Claire looked at the man beside her for the first time. He was larger than she had first thought, towering over her. His skin was a deep shade of red and he had two large horns jutting from the top of his head and curling around his goat-like ears. His bottom jaw jutted outward, showing off large canines that protruded from his lips. He looked at Claire and gave her a toothy smile.</p>
<p>She screamed. That seemed like the appropriate response to what she could only describe as a monster. The man leaned closer towards her and she fell off her stool as she scrambled to get away from him. </p>
<p>"Wh-What?!" Claire yelped. She scooted farther away from the man, desperate to put as much space between him and herself as possible.</p>
<p>For the first time, she looked around the bar. All the patrons were staring at her, and they were all some sort of horrible beast or monster. Maybe the bartender had been right. She'd never been so drunk as to have hallucinations like this before. That's what it had to be, right? She was just drunk. She was breathing so heavily she was sure she was going to pass out.</p>
<p>Suddenly, the bartender's face filled her vision. She had a look that was caught between concern and irritation. Still, Claire was happy to see a friendly-looking human face. The bartender murmured something under her breath and Claire's eyes grew heavy. They fluttered closed and her breathing started to become even again.</p>
<p>"Wh... What did you...?" she mumbled.</p>
<p>Everything was starting to fade out. Her ears were ringing and she couldn't open her eyes anymore. The last thing she remembered was slumping forward into the waiting arms of the bartender.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Claire's head felt like it was being stepped on by an elephant. Her throat was dry and scratchy and her limbs felt heavy. It had been a while since she'd woken up feeling so horribly hungover. Of course, that was just how things ended up when she visited with her parents. It was never easy talking with them.</p>
<p>She was in an unfamiliar room. The blinds were closed, making the room as dark as they could, and she couldn't make out much aside from the obvious. She noted what looked to be a desk, a bookshelf, and a dresser. She couldn't remember how she'd gotten there or where exactly she was. However, she was still in one piece so she figured that she was somewhere relatively safe.</p>
<p>She propped herself up on her elbow, her body screaming at her not to move. On the table beside her was a tall glass of a dark liquid. There was a note beside it that Claire could just make out in the darkness. It said, 'Drink this,' in a beautiful, cursive scrawl. Gingerly, she picked up the glass and sniffed it. It smelled fruity with a milky undertone. She smiled. A smoothie.</p>
<p>She tipped the glass back and took a large drink of it. As soon as the thick liquid hit her tongue, her eyes flew up and she spat it back into the glass.</p>
<p>"Fuck, that's disgusting!"</p>
<p>She looked back down at the note in her hand. The words had changed. 'It'll cure your hangover.' She frowned. How could the note say something different now? She flipped it over—thinking that she had somehow turned it while holding it—but it was blank on the other side. When she flipped it back, it said, 'Drink this,' again. She flipped the paper a few more times, the text alternating between its two sayings. Odd. But, if it was right about curing her hangover...</p>
<p>She pinched her nose and quickly downed the drink, sputtering after the last of it went down her throat. It was truly foul and, with her nose unplugged, the aftertaste was enough to make her want to gag. She set the glass on the table and took several deep breaths to keep herself from throwing up. She glanced back over at the glass.</p>
<p>It was full again. However, this time it held water. She picked up the glass and sniffed it. It smelled faintly of lemon. She took a tentative sip. It was just water. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she chugged the water to rinse out the taste of the "smoothie" that she had drunk.</p>
<p>Her stomach gurgled when she was done. Whatever she had had was sitting like a rock. Perhaps she shouldn't have been so trusting. She could've just willingly poisoned herself. Well, she supposed it was too late to worry about now. If she died, she died. If she didn't, well, that would be the better of the two outcomes. Besides, she was exhausted and was already having trouble keeping her eyes open. She settled herself back into the bed and dozed off again.</p>
<p>When she woke, the blinds had been opened. The sky was gloomy and overcast, snow falling heavily. Claire sat up slowly, yawning as she did so. She felt much better. Her headache was completely gone and her body felt refreshed.</p>
<p><em>Guess that drink really did help</em>, she thought. <em>Even if it was awful.</em></p>
<p>Now that the room was cast in a gloomy light, she could take a better look around. It was a fairly small room, barely fitting the furniture it had in it. The bookshelf was stuffed with old-looking books with bindings stamped in a language she couldn't even begin to piece together. None of the characters looked remotely like anything she knew. There were lots of potted plants sitting on the top of the bookshelf, dresser, and desk, their vines overgrowing their pots and tangling around the furniture. On the walls were pictures of cats and scrolls with the same runic language that the books had.</p>
<p>Claire got up out of bed and cautiously opened the door into the hall. It split off to the left and right, both ends hitting a turn at the end of their paths. There were several other doors in the hallway, each one with a number printed on it. The hall was lit by sconces on alternating sides of the hall every five or so feet. At the end of the hall on the left path, she noticed an open doorway. Maybe that was the room she was looking for.</p>
<p>Carefully, she tiptoed out of the door. She kept her steps light, unsure of what she might find in this strange building. Luckily, the hallway was completely carpeted, muffling her footsteps even further. She made it to the doorway and, to her delight, found it was exactly what she was looking for. A bathroom! She hurried in.</p>
<p>Just as she was washing her hands, there was a knock on the door. She startled, though she supposed a knock was better than whoever it was bursting in. She wasn't sure what to do. It wasn't like she could hide in the small bathroom and it was obvious that she was in there. She had flushed the toilet and just had the sink running.</p>
<p>"Excuse me," said whoever was outside, "are you done?"</p>
<p>The voice wasn't familiar to Claire, but it sounded like a child. She figured there wasn't any reason to be afraid of a child so she slowly opened the door. Her eyes drifted down to a small, brown tabby cat walking upright on its back legs. There didn't appear to be anybody else in the hallway.</p>
<p>"I have to use the bathroom," said the cat.</p>
<p>It hooked a claw onto the edge of Claire's shirt and gently tugged her out of the doorway. Despite knowing that she could easily not do what the cat asked, she let herself be dragged out of the doorway. Once she was back in the hall, the cat entered the bathroom and closed the door behind itself.</p>
<p>She stood dumbfounded. A talking cat? She pinched her arm and it hurt, but there was no way she wasn't dreaming. She pinched herself harder. Maybe if she put herself in enough pain she would wake up. </p>
<p>"Come on, wake up," she mumbled. "Wake up, wake up, wake<strong>—</strong>"</p>
<p>She froze when she heard footsteps coming from just past the turn at the end of the hall. Before her brain could tell her to run, the bartender from the night before was coming around the corner. She was still in all black, carrying several bowls of food laid up her arm. She paused when she noticed Claire, rocking to a stop with a surprised expression.</p>
<p>"Oh, you're up already," the bartender said. "How are you feeling?"</p>
<p>"I-I'm... okay, I think," Claire responded. "Um, question. Am I asleep? Or dead?"</p>
<p>"I suppose I can't speak on the state of your consciousness, but I'm awake and not dead. You also appear to be awake and I'm about seventy-five percent sure you're alive."</p>
<p>"Well, I just... I went to the bathroom, you see. And... someone knocked on the door. Erm, well, <em>someone</em>... I guess it was a cat actually. That knocked on the door. And it went in to use the bathroom. So it said."</p>
<p>"Oh." The bartender looked at the closed door. "Let me set these down and I'll be right back. Don't move."</p>
<p>Claire wasn't sure that she could move. Her feet felt like they had taken root to the floor. So she stood still as the bartender slipped past her and made her way to one of the rooms down the hall. She disappeared for just a moment before popping back out and going back to Claire.</p>
<p>The door to the bathroom opened and the cat walked out again. It noticed the bartender and its eyes went wide. It ran down the hall and disappeared around the corner. The bartender clicked her tongue.</p>
<p>"Sorry about that," she said. "Cats don't do anything you ask them to." She gently rested a hand on Claire's shoulder and Claire tensed. "I'm sure you're confused. I'm Poppy. And you are?"</p>
<p>"C-Claire..."</p>
<p>Poppy nodded. "Well, Claire, how is your head feeling? Better I hope."</p>
<p>"Oh, yeah. Um, I drank something and I felt better when I woke up."</p>
<p>Poppy smirked. "My hangover cure never fails. Too bad it doesn't taste better."</p>
<p>Claire laughed lightly. "Yeah, it tasted like shit."</p>
<p>Poppy shot her a disapproving look. "Hey, only I get to say it tastes bad," she said sharply. "You were blackout drunk and I took care of you. You've got no place to trash talk my cure."</p>
<p>Claire shrunk back into herself. She hated being scolded. And Poppy was right. She should be grateful that someone nice had taken her in last night. There were plenty of other ways the night could've ended. She certainly hadn't pulled the shortest straw. Although, she wasn't exactly sure that she was in the best case scenario either.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," Clarie murmured. "I didn't mean to be rude."</p>
<p>Poppy nodded, apparently accepting Claire's apology. "Come along now. I'll make you breakfast. I have some questions."</p>
<p>Poppy led Claire down to the end of the hallway and Claire's surprise, it dipped down into a long, winding staircase. Claire skipped down the steps, trying to keep up with Poppy's quick descent. It was like Poppy was barely touching the steps, leaping down them two at a time as she went. They passed several doors on the way down, similar in style to the one that Claire had opened the night prior to get into the bar. Poppy didn't give them a second glance, continuing to the very bottom of the staircase.</p>
<p>Claire was out of breath by the time they reached the bottom, but Poppy didn't slow. She went through the doorway that led into another hallway and took a sharp left through an archway. Claire scrambled after her, knowing full well she would get lost in whatever maze this was without Poppy.</p>
<p>The room Poppy had turned into was a grand room. The ceiling was high allowing two fully grown trees to spread their branches out across the room. The trees were planted in the corners along a wall of windows that looked into a snowy garden. In the center of the room, the floor was sunken in, couches lining the entire outside rim of it. In the center of the couch square, was what Claire could only describe as a cauldron. It was bubbling with a purple liquid that looked to be what Claire had been served that morning. Several cats were sitting like humans on the couch and chatting amongst themselves. Claire couldn't make out what they were saying.</p>
<p>Poppy didn't pause in this room, continuing swiftly through it and forcing Claire to chase after her. Claire nearly tripped on a root as she tried to follow Poppy through the doorway on the other side of the room.</p>
<p>They were spat out into another hallway and Poppy took a sharp right through another doorway. Claire deflated when she noticed that Poppy was already skipping her way up another flight of stairs. What kind of house was this? Was it purposefully designed to be Claire's worst nightmare? It was huge and no house should have this many staircases.</p>
<p>Thankfully, Poppy only climbed one flight before ducking through one of the doors and eventually coming to a stop. Claire put her hands on her hips and doubled over as she tried to catch her breath. Poppy seemed perfectly fine and looked surprised to see Claire in such a state. Claire didn't know how to tell her not everyone traversed a maze just to get to wherever it was they had ended up. Not that Claire could've said much of anything in her current state.</p>
<p>"Sorry," Poppy said. "It's kind of a long journey from the guest room."</p>
<p>"Y-You think?" Claire said breathlessly. She stood tall and took in a long breath. Sweat had begun to spring up on her forehead and she was sure she'd felt it roll down her spine.</p>
<p>She took in the room they had entered. It was a pretty normal looking kitchen. Fairly modern and cookie-cutter with white countertops and black cabinets. For how the rest of the house looked, this was incredibly normal. It ironically felt out of place.</p>
<p>Poppy went to the fridge and pulled out a carton of eggs. A seemingly mundane task except that it wasn't a normal carton that Claire was used to. Poppy had to hold it in both hands because of how large it was.</p>
<p>"Will eggs do?" she asked Claire.</p>
<p>Claire swallowed, the daunting idea of eating whatever eggs were in the carton making her nervous. "Y-Yes, that's alright."</p>
<p>"Any dietary restrictions or allergies I should know about?"</p>
<p>"Nope. I'm good to eat anything." Though, as Claire said that she wasn't sure she wanted to try any more of Poppy's cooking. If that hangover cure was any indication of how good it would taste, she was not excited.</p>
<p>Poppy grabbed a skillet from one of the cabinets and set it on the stove. She flitted about the kitchen grabbing various ingredients, including fresh herbs from a small planter on the counter. Claire slipped into one of the stools at the island to watch as Poppy took one of the large eggs and cracked it into the pan. </p>
<p>The smell of cooking egg filled the kitchen and Poppy got to work seasoning it. She worked quickly and diligently; before long, Claire had a perfectly cooked omelet in front of her. It smelled delicious and her mouth watered. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.</p>
<p>"Dig in," Poppy said. She began to clean up the kitchen, placing ingredients back where they came from and putting dishes into the sink.</p>
<p>"Are you not going to eat?"</p>
<p>"Already did." Poppy leaned against the island. "It's..."—she checked the clock above the stove—"almost noon."</p>
<p>That would explain why Claire was so hungry. She nodded once, mumbled her thanks, and dug into the egg. The egg itself was light and fluffy, practically melting away in Claire's mouth. It didn't have much flavor to it aside from the salt and pepper that Poppy had mixed in at the start. It was comparable enough to chicken eggs so Claire didn't even know where to begin in guessing what kind of egg it was. As she dug deeper, she made it to the contents of the omelet. It had pretty simple ingredients: ham, cheese, and a little bit of spinach. The ham was sweet while the cheese was sharp. They mixed well with each other enhancing the flavor of the eggs. The spinach was still a bit crisp, having been added last as to not cook it down too much. It added a fresh veggie flavor to the warm eggs. All in all, Claire would say this was a great breakfast. She quickly finished off the last of it.</p>
<p>Poppy cleared the dishes away as soon as Claire was finished and placed them in the sink.</p>
<p>"Sh-should I clean up?" Claire asked, straightening up. "I feel like I should do something to thank you for this morning."</p>
<p>Poppy waved her hand dismissively. "That's quite alright." She leaned against the island and fixed a sharp gaze onto Claire. "So, how was it you ended up in my bar last night?"</p>
<p>"Oh..." Claire shifted in her seat. Despite not being hungover and being full of yummy food, her memory of the evening was still shrouded in fog. "Uh, I walked. I was kinda drunk so I don't really remember it that well."</p>
<p>Poppy's eyebrows raised. "<em>Kinda</em> drunk..? Right. Can you tell me what you do remember?"</p>
<p>"Um..." Claire wracked her brain for anything to offer. "I walked in... And I went to the bar. I ordered a drink and you said no. Then I... fell out of my chair for some reason and then I passed out. I think..."</p>
<p>Claire realized there were a lot of gaps in her memory from the evening. She couldn't remember there being anyone else at the bar though she was sure that there was. She remembered someone beside her speaking but not who. And why had she fallen out of her stool? She remembered feeling scared but couldn't remember why she had felt that way.</p>
<p>"Sorry, I don't remember anything more," she concluded.</p>
<p>Poppy nodded slowly. "Right... But do you remember how you got to the bar?"</p>
<p>Claire shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. I just remember there being a weird looking door. Down an alley, I think. That's it... Wait, why does it matter how I got there?"</p>
<p>Poppy shrugged. "Well, you shouldn't have been able to," she said simply. </p>
<p>"What does that mean?"</p>
<p>"There shouldn't have been a door wherever you came in at."</p>
<p>"But if you were open then...?"</p>
<p>"No," Poppy said, shaking her head. "The door you found should not exist. There should only be one door, and it certainly isn't down any old alley. You have to tell me where you got in at."</p>
<p>"But-But I don't remember where it was! I mean, I <em>think</em> it was near my house, but I don't know that. I was drunk. If you can take me to where it is, I can tell you that it is where I came from."</p>
<p>"I don't know where it is either because there shouldn't be another door," Poppy insisted.</p>
<p>"I'm not sure what you want from me. I told you everything I can remember."</p>
<p>Poppy took in a short, sharp breath. Claire could only assume she had come to terms with the fact that this conversation was going nowhere. She placed both of her hands on the counter. "Okay, maybe if you leave through the bar, it'll take you back where you came from." She sounded uncertain. "That's my best solution. Come on."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After being dragged through the house down several long hallways and staircases, Claire was back in the bar. It looked just as it did the night before; she recalled the pool table and dartboard. It was empty of patrons, but Claire supposed it was still a bit early in the day for a bar to be open, let alone have a bunch of customers. </p>
<p>Poppy stopped in front of the glass-paned door. Claire remembered it from the night before and noticed the chalkboard sitting right beside the entrance.</p>
<p>"This is where you came in?" Poppy asked.</p>
<p>Claire shook her head. "No, not here. Out in the hallway."</p>
<p>She opened the door and led the way out into the hallway. It was much bigger than she remembered and there were several more doors too. But she walked past the bathrooms and stopped outside the door that she was fairly certain she had come through. It looked just how Claire remembered it, a wooden door with metal braces. Something about the warmth of standing so close to it reminded her of the night before, but she couldn't quite place her finger on the sensation. </p>
<p>Poppy looked confused. "This door? This is a closet, Claire." To prove her point, she opened the door and it opened into a broom closet. All that was inside were cleaning supplies and no trace of an alleyway.</p>
<p>"I swear this is where I came in at," Claire said, sounding just as confused as Poppy looked. "I remember feeling nauseous and stumbling into the wall there. Then going down to the bar."</p>
<p>Poppy closed the door. "You open it then."</p>
<p>Claire nodded and did as she was told. She turned the knob and opened it up. It opened up into the alley that she was sure she had visited the night before. The sun was shining and the warm air from the other side wafted in. Claire could hardly contain her excitement at being right. She turned back to Poppy.</p>
<p>"See!"</p>
<p>Poppy frowned. "What the hell?" She gently shooed Claire out of the door and followed her into the alley.</p>
<p>The smell of the city engulfed them and Claire wrapped her arms around herself. She never thought that she would have missed the city so much. Or the warm weather. Now that she thought about it, it had been snowing on the other side of the door, hadn't it? She heard the door shut behind them and turned back towards it. </p>
<p>She froze. "W-Wait." The door was no longer there even though the two women had just come through it. "The door...?"</p>
<p>Poppy looked over at her curiously. "What about it?"</p>
<p>"It's... gone. But it was just right there! Oh God, am I going crazy?"</p>
<p>Poppy looked unperturbed. She went to the wall of the alley and grabbed just in front of it. She turned her hand as if turning a doorknob and, to Claire's surprise, the door opened again into the hallway. Claire approached it cautiously, sticking her head into—what looked like to her—a hole in the alley wall. She frowned and pulled her head back out.</p>
<p>"Huh, guess the magic is just strong enough for people who aren't falling over drunk," Poppy mumbled. "And why through the closet? That just doesn't make any sense. And I didn't open it into the alley but I can open it back into the hallway. That's so odd."</p>
<p>"Wait, magic?"</p>
<p>Claire let the word fall from her mouth. Everything made so much more sense while at the same time making no sense at all. Magic explained everything, but it wasn't real. At least, so Claire thought. But she'd seen it all with her own eyes, hadn't she? Unless, of course, this was a vivid dream. She could believe that too. She <em>had</em> had some crazy dreams when she went to bed drunk.</p>
<p>Poppy turned to Claire as she closed the door once more. "I'll take you home." She started off towards the entrance of the alley.</p>
<p>"W-Wait, Poppy!" Claire scrambled after her, nearly tripping over her own feet to catch up with the other girl.</p>
<p>Poppy stopped abruptly when she made it to the end of the alley causing Claire to slam into her and send them both tumbling out onto the sidewalk. Poppy turned to her sharply but stopped when she noticed Claire's large puppy-dog eyes.</p>
<p>"Poppy, wait..." Claire mumbled. "Is it really magic or am I dreaming? I mean, I have to be dreaming, right?"</p>
<p>"Um... Yes, this is a dream," Poppy said slowly. "So you should let me take you home so you can wake up."</p>
<p>Claire looked relieved. "Wow, okay. I must've been really drunk if I'm dreaming about the pretty bartender from last night."</p>
<p>"Pretty bartender?"</p>
<p>"Oh, uh..." Claire's face flushed. "Well, yeah, the last bar I hit up. The bartender was super cute. Well, obviously, you know. You're her." She laughed. "And I dreamt you up. Even came up with a sweet backstory for you too!" She moved closer to Poppy. </p>
<p>Poppy tensed slightly, the compliments turning her cheeks pink as well. "Right... Well, I should really get you home. So where do you live?"</p>
<p>"Oh, just up the road, actually. I had almost made it home. Wonder why I stopped by the bar..."</p>
<p>"No sense worrying about it. Let's go."</p>
<p>Claire trotted along with Poppy at her side. They were quiet for only a moment before Claire said, "Am I going to remember this when I wake up?"</p>
<p>Poppy glanced over at her. "Probably not. It'll be like none of this ever happened.."</p>
<p>Claire looked crestfallen. If she was being honest, she didn't really want to forget about Poppy. Of course, if she forgot her, there would be nothing to miss. Still, she didn't like the idea very much. She was very curious about this woman and her bar. And, well, it had been a while since she'd met a cute girl she liked. They didn't exactly fall into her lap.</p>
<p>"Why do you look so depressed? You'll be just fine without your memories of one evening."</p>
<p>"Well, <em>yeah</em>." Claire let out a long, sullen sigh. "I don't know... You just seem kind of cool... Maybe we could've been..."</p>
<p>"Friends?"</p>
<p>Claire's face flushed and she looked away. Why did that make her stomach flip? It wasn't exactly odd for her to want to be friends. At least, she didn't think so.</p>
<p>"Well, it is a bit unfortunate the circumstances we met under," Poppy said. "But... it is what it is."</p>
<p>Claire nodded. "I suppose so."</p>
<p>They continued on, the conversation falling off once again. It wasn't long before they had made it back to Claire's apartment building. It was a very nicely kept building and Poppy craned her neck to see up to the top.</p>
<p>Claire stopped outside the front door. She turned to Poppy with a sad smile. "Well, this is my stop."</p>
<p>Poppy nodded. "Alright."</p>
<p>"Since this is a dream and all, can I get a goodbye kiss?" Claire wiggled her eyebrows with a sly smile.</p>
<p>Poppy's eyes went wide.</p>
<p>"I'm kidding, I'm—"</p>
<p>Poppy grabbed the front of Claire's shirt and dragged her into a kiss. It only lasted for a second, but it was enough to short-circuit Claire's brain. When Poppy pushed her away again, Claire wasn't even sure she could remember what day it was.</p>
<p>"Wh-What?"</p>
<p>"Goodbye, Claire."</p>
<p>"W-Wait, P..."</p>
<p>But Claire couldn't seem to remember the woman's name. As if a switch had been flipped, she stopped and turned to the front door of the building. She walked inside and rode the elevator up to her floor. She entered her apartment. She shed her clothing as she crossed the room and climbed into her bed. Her eyes closed and, just like that, she was fast asleep.</p>
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